


Thingamabobs?

by Napstablook22



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: And Gaster, Angst, Definitely gonna have some Sans later, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gonna have an angsty reedz too, Like a hinting of it, Lots of fluff for now, Reader Is Not Frisk, Self-Harm, Self-Insert, Spiders?, Suicide Attempt, Theivery?, and Asgore, i have no idea what im doing, these tags are all over the place
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 10:10:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7218328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Napstablook22/pseuds/Napstablook22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are sorta just some random scenarios that pop into my head here and there. Not a flowing story, really, just doing it for fun.<br/>Most of these chapters or scenes will consist of Character(i.e. Sans, Gaster, Grillby etc.)/Reader<br/>I'm also open to suggestions for scenes too, so if anyone has any ideas they'd like to see don't be afraid to send 'em my way!<br/>I'll be adding pairings and tags as I move along, as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grillby

To say Grillby was caught off guard by the sudden downpour was an understatement. He’d been peacefully enjoying his early morning walk to work when, all of a sudden, it was like someone had started pouring whole buckets of freezing water from the sky. Grey clouds thundered overhead as he frantically sought after shelter. His flames were pummeled with water making patches in his skin, embers a deep red. His sights locked onto a tiny covered bus stop and he dashed towards it like a madman. Sighing in relief from the wet weather, he sat heavily on the bench, yellow flames already growing back to their normal orangey hue.

He had no idea where this gloomy weather had just appeared from; he'd checked the weather forecast three times this morning, and it was supposed to be sunny all day! So, he'd figured he wouldn't need them and had decided to leave both his phone and umbrella safe at home.

His flames dimmed and he slouched slightly as he listened to the droplets fall, plinking against the metal currently serving to keep him dry. He could feel the dampness of his clothes seeping through to his flames making his situation all the more uncomfortable. The rain continued to beat down on the world around him. He would have to wait until it stopped to actually go anywhere. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, effectively setting glasses askew, and resigned himself to the long wait.

Grillby startled awake at the sound of someone clearing their throat. His brows furrowed. When had he fallen asleep? He straightened his glasses on his face as his gaze came to rest upon you, standing in front of him. You were giving him a curious look, head tilted slightly to the side, fingers fiddling anxiously with the string attached to the handle of your black umbrella. 

You opened your mouth, then closed it. The bartender raised an eyebrow questioningly. Finally you huffed and motioned for him to scoot over on the bench. He obliged. You closed your umbrella and sat softly beside him as you placed it in your lap.

Grillby turned his attention from you and continued listening to the rain. He could feel your gaze. You were observing him. He glanced at you and you quickly averted your gaze, cheeks becoming red. He’d come into contact with very few humans since he'd moved to the surface and all of them shied away from him because of his flames. You were the first to actually acknowledge him.

You both sat in silence for a few more moments.

Finally, you said, “Nice weather we're havin’ t’day, eh?” Your voice had a slight accent to it, almost like you slurred your words. Whether it was just laziness on your part or foreign to the bartender was up for debate. It made Grillby focus his attention on you. Your expression held a sort of look he couldn't place. Nostalgia, perhaps? He shifted his shoulders in a sort of shrug. You blew out a breath and it steamed from your mouth and nose. It wasn't yet cold enough to freeze but cold enough to bundle up for. It made him appreciate that he was made out of flames. Your features shifted into a look of confusion. “Say, what’s a flamin’ hot guy, like yourself, doin’ out in this gloomy weather anyhow?”

Grillby didn't miss the pun and shrugged his shoulders again. You grunted. “Fair enough.” Silence again. “Not much of a talker are ‘ya?” Another shrug. “That's alright. Names _____.” You thrust your hand out into his direction. Grillby stared at the proffered limb before reaching forward and grasping your hand. Your grip was firm, skin soft as it came into contact with his flames. He noticed you relax slightly once you realized he wouldn't burn you. 

“Grillby,” he replied. He never was one for conversation. A lopsided grin spread across your face.

“Nice ta meet ya, Grillby.” You released his hand, returning yours to your own lap as you looked back out at the rain. It had started coming down harder and probably wouldn't be letting up anytime soon. “So, where ya headed to?” Your gaze was focused on him again as you spoke. He raised a brow at you again. “Well you're sittin’ at a bus stop, yeah? Busses usually take people places, if I'm not wrong. So, where ya headed?” 

Grillby shook his head and waved up at the darkened sky. Your eyebrows drew together as you tried to figure out what he meant. “You're not goin’ anywhere? Because of the rain?” The bartender nodded. Realization dawned over your face as you scanned his person. “You forgot an umbrella didn't ya?” you snickered softly. Grillby frowned slightly. Forgot? How could anyone have known it was going to rain, with how sudden it had happened? 

His confusion must’ve shown on his face because you laughed again and said, “Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ve a gift for this sorta thing. Here,” you picked the umbrella up off your lap and held it out to him, “you probably need this more than i do right now.” Grillby immediately started to protest, lightly pushing the object back towards you, but you were insistent. You gently grabbed his hand and placed the umbrella in it, curling his fingers around the handle. “Won’t take no for an answer, Mister. Now, I’m certain ya have important things to be attending and should probably be on your way, eh?”

Grillby stared at you, floored. He’d never met a human that was so nice to him. You were practically fearless. Kind, also, he should mention. Grillby racked his brain for something to give in return for your kindness. You were standing in front of him shuffling your feet awkwardly as he stared at you. He watched as you shivered slightly in the cold, your thin jacket ruffling in the breeze. An idea sparked (Sans would be so proud.)to life in his mind.

He tugged his arms out of the sleeves of his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. You froze briefly as he reached around and tugged the hood over your head but relaxed as the warmth from the item seeped into your skin. He rested his hands on your shoulders lightly. “Thank you,” he murmured quietly. You smiled up at him brightly, pushing your arms through the sleeves. 

“Right back at ‘ya.”

Grillby opened the umbrella and stepped out into the rain. He lingered a moment longer before setting his pace for his bar. He only got a few steps away when you shouted, “I fully expect to get that back, one day, Grillby!” 

You laughed as he turned back towards you and said, “Right back at you,” and disappeared down the street.


	2. Asgore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Creepy crawlies and fluffy goat-men?

Ever since you were a child, you'd always had a fascination with flowers. Their beautiful hues and soft petals awed you into silence at times. It was why you'd decided to own a flower shop. You absolutely loved growing them and nurturing them to the best of your ability, pulling weeds, providing sunlight and water, trimming off dead leaves. It calmed you; put you in a serene mood that never failed to keep you in high spirits. 

You loved it when love-struck individuals waltzed into your shop and picked out the flowers they believed their partners would adore or when women came in asking about wedding bouquets. Sometimes you had the sad case of loved ones passing on, and their family or friends came to collect the vibrant flora and pay their respects; you would always lend an ear to those who needed it while they browsed.

You loved your job, endlessly, but there was one thing that could prohibit you from doing what you loved. And it had eight legs and eyes and was currently taking up residency in your door frame. It wasn't that you hated spiders, goodness no. They were just a bit... frightening to you. Which is why, when you saw the massive creature, a big, black and yellow thing the size of your palm, nestled in it's web, in the frame of your door, you screamed.

To be fair, it wasn't a very loud scream. Just a slight yelp of surprise as you scrambled backwards into something hard. And furry? And warm? You jumped away from the second thing to give you a mini heart attack that morning only to find yourself face to face with a very large goat-man.

Your brain scrambled to keep up as you mumbled an apology and turned back to the eight legged creature. The goat-man laughed heartily, waving off your apology. You chuckled nervously, before inching closer to your door. 

The goat-man rested a white furry hand on your tense shoulder, concern etched on his face. “May I?” he waved his other hand towards the door. You looked back and forth between the two before you nodded and stepped back to allow the large monster room.

He lifted a hand towards the spider and gently lifted it away from the door frame. You watched it’s legs squirm as it was disturbed and shuddered slightly.

The goat-man placed the spider upright on his palm and it quickly crawled up his arm to rest upon his shoulder. You took a slight step backwards in fear. The goat man turned towards you, a smile resting on his features. “Good morning, Miss,” he greeted. You blinked and glanced at the creature on his shoulder.

“How’d you do that?” The goat man frowned in a confused way.

“Pardon?”

“How’d you pick it up so effortlessly?” You gestured towards the spider, “Spiders scare me to death; couldn’t ever dream of picking one up let alone letting it crawl on me.” Goat-man laughed again and your face heated up as you ducked your face into the fluff of your coat.

“Oh dear, this poor creature is very harmless I assure you. Here, let me see your hand,” he held out a furry paw for you to take. You hesitated, but placed your hand atop his palm gently; it practically dwarfed yours. His fur was soft and warm and it tickled your palm a little. The goat-man smiled and lifted his free hand to his shoulder, gently lifting the eight-legged creature and placing it on your wrist. You cringed and tensed at the feeling of its spindly legs on your skin, shutting your eyes tightly. 

The spider scuttled up your arm, into your hair, and on top of your head, squeak bursting from your mouth. You froze. The goat-man’s hand tightened around your own and you relaxed slightly.

After a minute or so, the monster in front of you lifted the spider out of your hair. The tension in your body melted away as he gently placed it onto a nearby flowerpot, murmuring to it softly. He stood and faced you again as you continued to watch him. He stuck out furry hand with a sheepish expression. “I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Asgore.” You took his hand and shook it firmly. The name sounded familiar but you were unsure as to where you’d heard it. A newspaper, maybe? You were never one for social media, if you were honest.

“I’m _____. It’s nice to meet you, Asgore.” Asgore smiled warmly at you. His eyes glanced to your shop behind you and you remembered why you were there. You glanced over your shoulder, throwing Asgore a questioning look, as you turned and pushed the key into the lock. “Are you here to get some flowers?”

Asgore raised a hand to rub at the back of his neck while watching you anxiously. “Ah. yes. That is if you don’t mind.” You threw him a confused look as you lead the way inside.

“Why would I mind?” You spread your arms wide, in a dramatic display. “Take your pick, my good man.” Asgore laughed again as he began browsing your flower pots. 

He wandered around your shop for a while, looking a little lost. He would lean down and smell a flower every once in awhile, but none seemed to strike his fancy. He lingered on the white roses for a while but eventually moved on. 

You wondered what he needed flowers for. He didnt seem to be greiving. At least not that you could tell from looking at him. A lover perhaps? Asgore seemed like the type to buy flowers for someone he cares about. Although, usually, if the flowers were for a wedding, both the bride and groom would come in and pick. So... a crush maybe? You smiled to yourself. That was an adorable thought. 

Finally, Asgore settled on a bundle of daisies and made his way to the counter. You smiled and began ringing him up. "Will that be all?" Asgore smiled back, warmly.

"I believe so, yes, thank you.” 

You gently placed the flowers in his hand as he paid for them. "Good. Come again soon!” 

He waved as he opened the door and you returned the gesture. “I most certainly will. Have a wonderful day,” and then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp here's the next little uh piece I've written. I really enjoyed writing this! I hope you guys like it!


	3. Sans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skeletons and sweets?

Okay. You can do this ______. It’s just a little food.

You peered around the side of the building you were currently hiding behind, eyes scanning the array of market stalls before you. Your stomach growled as you caught sight of the stall selling delicious smelling food. You could see whole pies, small wrapped cakes, cookies, all kinds of small sweets ripe for the taking.

All you had to do was snatch one and make a run for it.

The only things standing in your way was the skeleton currently manning the stall and the weather. The tall goat-woman who usually manned it had left about ten minutes ago, leaving the boneman in her place. His sockets were closed, as if he were sleeping, which meant he wouldn't pose too much of a threat to your plan. You just needed to be quiet. It was a good thing the stall was the first in the line. 

Due to the recent freezing temperatures, the rain that had fallen last night had frozen and created a deadly sheet of ice. It had also frozen the edges of your ratty coat and caused your toes and fingers to go numb, which, you figured, was a very bad thing.

You crept out from behind the wall and slowly made your way towards the booth. 

Only a few more steps.

You glanced at the skeleton. Still asleep. Okay. You can do this. 

Your fingers brushed over the plastic of a wrapped cake.

You heard a shuffle and your gaze snapped up and you came face-to-face with the skeleton.

"Boo,” his left eye lit up with blue flames and you screamed, stumbling backwards.

They say your life flashes before your eyes right before you die. As your feet slipped out from under you and your arms pinwheeled, you discovered this fact to be complete and utter bullshit. The only thought you had as you tumbled towards your icy grave was a string of curse words that would make a sailor run crying to his mommy.

In fact, that’s exactly what escaped your mouth, “Fuck, shit, fuck-” A pair of arms stopped your descent and cut off your sinful spewing as you slammed into someone's chest.

“icy you’ve fallen snow hard for me.”

…

Was that a fucking pun?

You looked up at your saviour from your place against their chest. Two black sockets with pinpoints of lights and a wide, toothy grin greeted your eyes. The blood drained from your face.

Well, fuck.

Concern flushed across the skeletons face. “you okay there, pal?” you jumped at the sound of his voice. Unfortunately, that lead to you becoming further off-balance. Your slight grip on the ice beneath you gave way and your fingers clamped down onto something soft. The skeleton yelped as you dragged him down onto the ice with you. 

Thankfully you had the skeleton to cushion your impact. He, however, wasn't so lucky. 

The skeleton released a groan of pain and all of the air in your lungs left upon crashing down. You gasped and wheezed, rolling onto your hands and knees as you tried to regain your breath. Your lungs screamed for air but didn't seem to remember how to function properly.

“really took your breath away, eh pal?” pink slippers entered your vision and you looked up at the skeleton as you finally, finally, filled your aching lungs.

A boney hand extended towards you and you grimaced, shoving it aside and clambering to your feet instead. You lunged at the table, grabbed one of the smaller wrapped items, and took off down the street. You heard the skeleton cry out behind you and you quickened your pace incase he decided to chase you.

Your feet slapped the pavement, ice causing you to slip a few times. You rounded a corner, diving into a crowd of pedestrians in your path. Chancing a glance behind you, you saw a flash of blue and white amongst the crowd.

Fuck.

You barreled your way through the rest of the people and dashed into a nearby alley. Your eyes scanned the alley desperately for anything to hide behind. Your sights locked onto a dumpster and you grimaced. This was going to be gross. You shoved the small cake into your pants pocket. You walked up to the bin and opened the lid, a foul smell erupting from the bin. Your nose wrinkled and you steeled your nerves before hoisting yourself over the rim and pulling the lid down over you. 

You almost gagged on the smell before you covered your face with your coat collar. It only muffled the smell a little.

You froze as you heard footsteps enter the alley. They approached the bin and your breath caught in your throat. Then you heard all nether pair of footsteps. They sounded smaller, like a childs?

“yea, i'm sure they went this way, kiddo,” the skeleton. A pause, then, “alright, alright.” Another pause, “yea it was just a little one. heh, you and your sweet tooth. toriel won't mind that they got away with one, right?” The skeleton paused again. “okay, good. let's get back before anyone else decides to help themselves to our stuff,” the footsteps retreated out of the alley and you released a breath.

You waited a few minutes before opening the lid and peeking out. All clear, good. You clambered out of the dumpster and made your way out onto the sidewalk again. You could see the blue coat of the skeleton mixed in with the crowd and headed in the opposite direction, tugging the cake from your pocket. You grinned.

Chocolate. Score.

You unwrapped the treat and took a bite, almost groaning at the taste. That goat-lady (you think you heard the skeleton call her toriel?) could make the best damn food you'd ever tasted. Your stomach growls as you finish the cake and you almost wish you'd have saved it for later but you hadn't eaten in a few days and you needed that.

As exhaustion leaked into your limbs, your feet carried you to the alley that led to your home. You tugged the fire escape ladder down and slowly climbed your way to the top of the three-story building. Trudging to your nest of blankets and other miscellaneous items you'd collected over the past few months, you collapsed onto the pile and covered yourself. 

Time to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided on an uploading schedule that I will try to keep up with. Tuesdays and Saturdays should be a good set. Anywho I hope you guys like this chapter! It too quite a bit of ah thinking on my end to put it together. I still feel it doesn't quite flow but oh well. Next upload should be on Saturday!


	4. Gaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mountains and a smart looking skeleton?
> 
>  
> 
> This is your warning for this dark chapter. An pretty much all of the other Gaster ones after.  
> Suicide, self-harm, etc.

Your feet were dangling over the edge of the cliff. You kicked them back and forth, nervously peering at the vast, grassy and sandy plains below. Your back was leaning against the wooden rail behind you, splinters of wood poking your skin. You tugged the ends of your sleeves down, a habitual nervous tick you'd acquired. The sun was slowly making its way toward the ground and, soon, it would take the pinks, oranges and purples from the sky as it disappeared. Fluffy clouds dotted the wide expanse of sky before your gaze. You sighed softly as you watched the beautiful spectacle, the soft music flowing through your earbuds only adding to the atmosphere.

You had thought about this moment many times before. You'd relished in your fantasies of death. How you would do it, where, when. You'd planned it all out. There was a stack of letters to those you loved on your desk at home. You'd spent weeks on those letters, writing them, then rewriting them. Perfecting them. You'd left all of your belongings to your parents, figuring that, since they'd raised you, the least you could do was pay them back for all they'd done for you. You didn’t have any siblings to give anything to, or any other family or friends, for that matter. It was just you and your parents.

Now the time had come. 

You’d chosen Mount Ebbot for your final resting place. A beautiful mountain on the edge of the sea. It was almost picturesque, you thought. Almost. The only thing deterring it from being so was you, currently seated on a cliff high enough that it would smear you into a grease spot if you fell. Which, in all honesty, was exactly what you wanted.

You bit your lip and peered at the ground far below you, once again. All it took was one push. You bit harder. One shove, a few seconds of falling, and everything would be over. No more crying at night, no more mistakes, no more pain. You hissed as your teeth broke the skin and the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth. You sucked lightly on your lip to get it to stop.

You took a deep breath and scooted forward on the ledge slightly. It was now or never.

You closed your eyes.

Static filled your ears. 

You ripped the earbuds from your ears as a high pitched sound erupted from within them. Pulling it from your pocket, you glance at the screen of your phone only to be met with a screen full of static. You tapped the screen trying to the device to do something.

Nothing. Odd.

Something tapped your shoulder and you jumped, whirling around and coming face to face with...something white and black a wholly terrifying. You shoved yourself away from the creature on impulse. Unfortunately, that caused the earth under you to crumble and, before you had a chance to react, you were sent careening down the cliff face. 

A scream tore from your throat as wind whipped your clothes and hair. Faintly you registered the sting of pain in your arm before a deep purple glow encased your body, halting your fatal decent. It felt warm, comforting.

You held your breath as you slowly began to float upwards, back to the top of the cliff. Back towards the creature. As you grew closer to them, you could see they had burning purple irises, the same shade as the glow surrounding you. They were wearing a lab coat over a sweater, pressed pants and fancy shoes. This guy was definitely rich and smart. 

His face was what had you enraptured though. It was some type of skeleton skull, except there were cracks running from his left eye up the side of his head and his right eye down to the side of his mouth. You briefly wandered if that made it difficult to eat. Did he get food stuck in his eye sockets? Did he even need to eat? 

Getting distracted _______.

You collapsed as soon as your feet hit the ground and the skeleman lunged forward to catch you. His long arms easily wrapped around your frame as you sagged in his arms. A sting of pain shot through your arm again and you cringed trying to push yourself upright. You didn't want to put this stranger through anymore trouble that you had to. You finally managed to lift yourself into a standing position against the fence you sat at before. Your arm, wrapped around the wooden pole for stability, throbbed again.

You look at the skeleton. He stares back.

He hands you your phone and it pings telling you that you have a message. You jump slightly at the noise. Your knees almost give out, still weak from the fall. We're things getting fuzzier? You open the device and the message, glancing at the skeleton. 

I APOLOGIZE IF I FRIGHTENED YOU, HUMAN.

You looked from the skeleton to your phone and back again, face filled with confusion. Was he using your phone to communicate? Another message popped up.

ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

Your eyes, getting heavier by the second, settled on the skeleman before you. “Y-yeah. I’m alr-right,” you stutter. “T-thank you. For s-saving m-me.” Another ping.

YOU ARE QUITE WELCOME. I APOLOGIZE FOR CAUSING YOU TO FALL. I DID NOT EXPECT YOU TO REACT AS YOU DID.

You smiled slightly. “Sorry ab-bout that. You just c-caught me off guard.”

I SUSPECTED SO. ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE ALRIGHT, HUMAN?

…

HUMAN?

The last thing you remembered was falling forward, a familiar pair of arms catching you as everything went black.


	5. Grillby-Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healing and sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter out you guys. My life's been really hectic because I'm moving in two months. Updates are probably going to be a bit sporadic for a while. Forgive me

A month and a half passed before Grillby saw you again.

However, he had not expected it to be under these circumstances. 

He'd figured maybe he'd bump into you somewhere, perhaps out on a stroll or maybe you’d be sitting at the bus stop he’d first met you at; but not this. 

He had been peacefully enjoying his evening, taking care of his lingering customers when you'd practically slammed the door open and made a mad dash for the counter, almost tripping and slamming your face into it instead. You launched yourself over it and scrambled to squeeze yourself under the wooden surface. 

Scratches littered your face and your shirt and your pants were torn in several places, blood soaking some of the areas. Black eye, bruised cheek, cut lip, you were cradling your hand at an awkward angle and limping on your left leg slightly as well. You looked as if you'd gotten jumped by an angry mob. 

Grillby’s flames flared in panic as he realized what exactly was going on. He almost lunged forward to see if you were alright but the desperate look on your face begged him to hide you from who or whatever you were running from.

He glanced from you to the door as a group of people rushed by the windows and down the street. They were shouting something, waving flashlights back and forth along the sidewalk. When Grillby was sure their voices and lights had faded he nodded towards you and reached a hand down to help you up.

You grimaced as you were pulled upright, being careful not to put pressure on your injured limbs. You tried to shoot the bartender a grateful smile, but it ended up as more of a grimaced due to your bruised face. 

“Thank ya for lettin’ me hide Grillbs. Got me outta a real tight spot back ‘ere,” you rested your uninjured hand on his shoulder, patting it lightly. Your face contorted in pain as you try to limp your way around his bar, most likely to leave. Grillby rested his hand on your shoulder and you released a hiss of pain. The fireman immediately removed his hand from you, fearing he'd burned you, only to find no burn marks.

You shifted your shoulder slightly and turned back to Grillby, grimacing again. “Yes?” You questioned him. Grillby stared at you for a long awkward minute before swiftly reaching out to you and lifting you up bridal style. You cried out in surprise and pain as he lifted you, face reddening with embarrassment. “What’re ya doin’? Imma get you all messy.”

Grillby carried you through the fire escape and into the kitchen, away from prying eyes. He placed you gently on one of the counters then pointed toward your arm, almost definitely dislocated if earlier was anything to go by. You laughed slightly, “This? Aw it’s ‘nuthin. Should see how bad it gets on weekends,” you forced a laugh and moved to get off the counter top. Grillby stood in front of you blocking your path. You looked up at him. “I can handle it myself, Grillby. There's no need ta get all worried over ‘lil ol’ me.” Grillby shook his head and you let out an exhausted sigh. “Fine, fine. If it'll make ya feel better.” Grillby nodded and then proceeded to help you remove your shirt, much to your embarrassment.

The bartenders hands glowed with a soft warm light as he gently picked up your arm. Warmth seeped into your skin wherever he touched. His fingers curled around your wrist with a feather light touch and your fingers began to tingle as his magic started mending the injuries. He released your wrist once he was sure it was healed and his hand glided up your arm relieving the soreness in your muscles and guiding it back into socket. 

Grillby continued to touch and heal the injuries on your body, you blushing all the while. He was silent as he worked, eyes closed to focus his magic. You were close enough to him you could see swirls of colour in the flames that made up his hair, or, well, what would be his hair if he had any. His flames were growing dimmer as he continued to pour magic into you, hair flicking back and forth in worry. They were now a soft red, which worried you immensely. If he pushed himself too hard he could hurt himself, which you didn't want at all. He was being kind enough to heal most of the large injuries. Or, for that matter, let you hide here in the first place! 

Finally Grillby reached towards your face and rested his palm on your cheek. You looked up at him and your cheeks flushed. When had he gotten that close?! His thumb rested on your lip and your face heated. And this time it wasn't from the magic. As he worked on your face, you sagged in relief. You hadn't realized how much that hurt until now.

The bartenders voice was weak when he spoke, “What happened?” he pulled away as he finished healing your face and sagged against the counter next to you in exhaustion. You grimaced slightly.

“Just some idiots tryna beat up a ‘lil kiddo. He's alright though. I led ‘em away from ‘im,” you recounted. Grillby nodded and pushed himself off of the counter. He held a hand out to you and you accepted, hopping off the counter. He led you back into the he main dining area, still grasping your hand. You started towards the door but a tug on your arm ceased your movement. You glanced over your shoulder at Grillby.

“You can stay here tonight, if you wish. I have an extra room,” he voiced. You smiled at him.

“If it's not too much trouble, then yea, I'd love to.” Grillby smiled at your acceptance and led you around the bar top and through a doorway you hadn't noticed upon your hectic entrance.

The fire man led you up a set of stairs, through what you assumed was his living room, down another hallway, and through a door to the right. He flicked the light on, even though it wasn't necessarily needed, as he lit up the room himself. You could see a bed, a dresser, and a nightstand. Nice and simple, perfect. 

“Guest bedroom. My room is at the end of the hall if you need me.” 

“Thank you, Grillby, for everythin’,” Grillby smiled at you again.

“You're welcome, _____. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Grillby strode down the hall and disappeared behind his door. You could still see orange light flooding out from under the door even as you closed yours. You climbed into the bed and under the covers. 

Sleep whisked you away in minutes.


End file.
